Lots Of People Say
by The Brat Prince
Summary: "Kendall Knight was indubitably, without a doubt, one hundred percent gay. But no one knew how to tell him that." Kendall/James


**Lots Of People Say**

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Another ooooold oneshot. First published on my LJ in February. So. I don't really have anything to say about this except that the title is from the song If You Want It by Anthony da Costa. Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>1.<strong>

"So. I was thinking."

Kendall's head snapped up like a wolfhound scenting blood. Except the wide eyed expression on his face more closely resembled that of the prey; maybe a bunny about to get eaten. Because honestly, nothing good had ever come of _those words_ from _Carlos's_ mouth. Fun things? Sure. Things that made internationally renowned record producers go red in the face? All the time. Innovative, adrenaline producing, heart-slamming-so-hard-you-feel-like-your-ribs-might-break type things? Yeah, Carlos was a _pro _when it came to those_. _

But mundane, everyday, morally sound, _good-like-a-saint-is-good _ideas? Not so much.

And usually, Kendall would be fine with whatever Carlos's mystifyingly mischievous mind dreamed up. He was a pretty laid back guy that way.

Only, they'd just returned from a national tour, and the amount of _exhausted _he was? It couldn't be quantified in numbers the human mind could understand- or, well, maybe if Kendall was _Logan_ it could be charted onto neat little color coordinated graphs, but all that thinking seemed counterintuitive when it came to the whole exhaustion issue, and besides; contrary to popular belief, geeks did not get nearly as much sex as popular media let on. Kendall would've rather been dumb, desirable, and well on his way to a healthy sleep cycle than smart, tired, and lonely any day of the week.

"Oh?" he asked in what he considered a perfectly acceptable neutral tone (that he may or may not have practiced many times for an occasion just such as this).

"Yeah. So, like, now that you and Jo have broken up-"

"Carlos," Kendall warned, because she'd dumped him on the first leg of their tour, six months ago, for no good reason at all. She'd said they had _differences in ambition_. What did that even mean?

Kendall prided himself on being a moderately attractive, attentive boyfriend, so the lack of closure was mildly…irritating. Plus, he'd never been dumped before. It still stung. In a way that any understanding, reasonable human being would find perfectly normal, of course. In fact, anyone would be hard pressed to say that the way Kendall handled the whole debacle wasn't one of the more manly displays of grief and loss they'd ever witnessed.

Unfortunately his friends and family weren't normal; they were obviously _freaks of nature_ and seemed to be under the impression that he was having trouble getting over her. Or something. Which he wasn't.

"No, no, hear me out," Carlos instructed, this big dopey grin on his face, like whatever wisdom he had to impart was totally going to be worth it. He was wearing his I'm-doing-you-a-favor face, which really wasn't much better than the I've-been-thinking lead in. Favors from Carlos typically weren't any help at all, and required payback in the hard currency of corndogs and unhealthy energy drinks.

"Fine. Talk," Kendall said through a yawn.

"No need to be moody. The advice I'm about to give you will _change your life_."

The amount of how much Kendall doubted that was likely written all over his face, but he arched an eyebrow and said, "Shoot."

"Wait for it," he held up his hands and grinned, saying, "No, dude, seriously. This is going to blow your mind."

"_Carlos."_

"Okay, geez. Prissy pants."

"Carlos!"

Patience was not Kendall's middle name.

Carlos sighed, trying to convey what a horrible, soul-sucking trial it was dealing with Kendall when he was determined not to have even a modicum of fun.

"Go gay."

Kendall blinked. And then he blinked again.

"Okay, I can tell you aren't seeing the _genius_ of my plan. Look, Jo was a mega-hottie, right? And obviously, you've been pining after her-"

"I _have not_ been pining. Who even says pining?" Suspiciously, Kendall asked, "Have you been reading my mom's romance novels again?"

The tips of Carlos's ears reddened.

"_No_. Keep up, dude. So you need to get over Jo, but you've been completely avoiding girls ever since it happened."

That was a vicious lie, and Kendall was not going to stand for it. Or he wouldn't have, except Carlos talked really fast, and he was barreling on, "So why not try out guys? Remember that time you made out with that one kid at Jenny Tinkler's party, and you said he wasn't bad?"

"That was _Truth or Dare_, and I was thirteen, and it was _James_."

"Right," Carlos wrinkled his nose and said, "So maybe you don't want to hook up with James, but there's like a bevy of dudes out there who would totally stick their hands down your pants, I'd bet. I think."

Kendall really had no idea where this was coming from. Or how to respond. He wondered if he should mention his unquantifiable amount of exhaustion, but before he could, he yawned again. Carlos's gaze softened.

"Alright man, you get some sleep and think it over," He clapped Kendall's shoulder and said, "Good talk."

Kendall blinked for what felt like the thousandth time in the last minute.

Weird.

* * *

><p><strong>2.<strong>

Here was the thing.

Kendall Knight was indubitably, without out a doubt, one hundred percent gay. But no one knew how to tell him that.

No one being Carlos and Logan, who had decided this on their own, through a series of careful scientific studies they'd conducted on the tour bus, involving tight pants and movies starring Daniel Craig.

Logan didn't deal so well with conflict, or _big revelations_, which was why he'd sent Carlos in first. As a test subject.

The word guinea pig might have been used at one point, but Carlos had objected on behalf of the furry little creatures. He had a soft spot for all things that fluffed.

Only, he no longer got an opinion, because he had completely-

"-bombed. Seriously, you talked to him _three weeks ago_ and he still hasn't made a move!"

Logan wasn't sure what kind of move he expected Kendall to make. He was certain it would involve walking into one of those sketchy bars with all the neon lights downtown, or maybe flirting with Dak Zevon, or the flamboyant lifeguard down by the pool, or- well, _something_.

"I'd like to see you do better. Oh wait, you can't. You're _scared_."

"I am _not_ scared. I'm trying to conduct a controlled experiment, okay? I can't get too involved. That would- mess with my data."

Carlos snorted exactly what he thought of that.

"James, why don't you try?"

"Try what?" James glanced up from his super health conscious, skin clearing, hair glossing, fancy shcmancy gourmet sandwich stuffs and stared at his friends expectantly. He hadn't been involved in their meticulous scientific studies on the tour bus. He'd been too busy exfoliating. Or whatever it was James did when he locked himself in the bathroom for hours at a time.

"Talking to Kendall."

"O-kay. What do you want me to talk to him about?"

Logan opened his mouth to explain, but before he could say anything, he caught sight of Carlos, who was waving frantically at him and attempting what appeared to be sign language.

Carlos wasn't very good at signing, and Logan wasn't sure if his flapping arms meant _look, a hot girl_, _stop immediately, _or_ oh my god a meteor is about to hit the earth and we're all going to die_. He decided he would have to have a conversation about clarity with that boy, one of these days. Possibly sooner, rather than later, because he was reasonably sure that Mrs. Knight wasn't going to appreciate how Carlos's poor signage just decimated an entire shelf full of canned products.

She certainly wasn't going to like picking up all those olives off the floor.

"You know what? Never mind."

James frowned down at the cans Carlos had spilled everywhere, and shrugged.

"Whatever."

"I have the best idea in the history of the world," Carlos announced excitedly, voice alternating between hushed and Way Too Loud.

He gestured insanely for Logan to approach, which he did, hissing, "_What_? I was just going to ask James to help us out."

"Ye-eah," Carlos drew out the word, and said, "That's a neg. James can't talk himself out of buying surplus shampoo. _No way_ is he going to talk Kendall out of the closet."

Logan crossed his arms and glanced at their friend, who wasn't even paying attention to their conversation in favor of smearing something that looked a lot like guacamole over his cheekbones.

"What do you suggest?"

"We need to bring in the _big guns_."

* * *

><p><strong>3.<strong>

Enough time passed that Kendall decided his conversation with Carlos had obviously been part of an incredibly lucid dream caused by too many nights cooped up on a tour bus with three overly hormonal teenage boys.

Then he found his mom. Sitting on the couch. Staring at him. With her eyes.

"Kendall. Darling," she said, and Kendall felt a tremor of fear go through his body, because his mom hadn't called him darling since he was twelve and set the curtains on fire when he tried to make toast.

"Uh."

He winced at the sound of his own voice, meek and frightened. He hadn't done anything wrong.

Okay, he was relatively certain he hadn't done anything wrong, at least not of _darling _proportions, but sometimes things Kendall's moral compass agreed to were so far off other people's maps that he could never be absolutely sure they were entirely right.

"Yeah, mom?"

"I want to talk to you," she replied, this awful fake bright smile on her face, the same one she wore every time she had a conversation with the tenants of 2G, who were stout believers in the apocalypse, and gave out daily weather forecasts that included words like 'rain of toads'. She said, "Come sit."

Kendall gulped as she patted the sofa cushion beside her, but he was nothing if not an obedient mama's boy. He sat, and desperately tried to recall if he'd set any fires recently.

"I wanted to talk to you about- girls."

"Girls?" Kendall echoed, his mind going blank. He was close with his mom, closer than most of his friends were with their parents, and he really valued their relationship and everything, but he kind of drew the line when it came to talking about his love life. He had skillfully avoided the sex talk when he was thirteen by pretending he thought girls still had cooties, and continued to avoid it well into his fifteenth year with the same ruse. Only, then his mom had caught him making out on the porch with his lab partner for biology, so he'd had to come up with a new plan; make all girl-related conversations as awkward and difficult as humanly possible, so that there wouldn't be any temptation to repeat them. Ever.

Apparently that plan had gone horribly awry.

"Yes."

She nodded vigorously.

"I would _love_ to talk to you about- girls," Kendall choked out, "But I have to go to the studio because- um, Carlos had some bad chili from that street vendor down the block and he puked _all over_ Gustavo's mixing board and Kelly texted me about it literally two minutes ago, and you know Carlos has that thing with _projectile vomit_. Gustavo's going to _murder _him and that will just about kill my livelihood, so I've got to go- protect my interests. You understand, right?"

He actually had no idea where Carlos was, and didn't really condone lying, which, whatever. He would have chewed his own arm off right that minute. He rose off the couch, but his mother grabbed his wrist and ordered, "Sit."

He did.

"This will only take a second," she explained, and Kendall tried to take deep, calming breaths through his nose, squashing any outward signs of panic.

Sixteen years was a good run, honestly, and if he was going to die of embarrassment talking to his mother about sex, at least he'd already made a name for himself. The guys would make sure Big Time Rush continued, somehow, and they wouldn't let him fade into obscurity after death. He thought.

"You know that talk we had, about the birds and the bees?"

Oh. God. In fact, Kendall _did not know_, because he'd done his best to ward it off like the plague. He nodded stiffly and hoped death would strike him down sooner rather than later.

"Well…The birds and the bees, they can have a good time. A really good time. Only, sometimes, honey, the bees don't want birds."

Kendall blinked. He felt like he'd been doing that an awful lot, lately.

"What I'm saying is- well, sometimes the bees wonder if maybe they wouldn't be better off with other bees-"

The potential awkwardness of the conversation was slowly fading into absolute befuddlement, because he noticed his mom gripping the ends of the sofa cushion so hard her knuckles were turning white, and she had that look of righteous outrage that she would sometimes get when watching politicians make asses of themselves on TV. She kept going on and on about how it was good and right for bees to be able to fraternize, and-

"-who can blame them? Birds are, uh, filthy. They…molt," she explained, finishing lamely.

"Mom…Are you alright?" He raised an eyebrow. He'd been doing a lot of that lately as well.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Absolutely fine. I just wanted to let you know that-" she took a deep breath and continued, "-I am completely behind your life choices."

"My life…?"

"I'm just saying, those life size cutouts of all those hockey players in your room back home make _so much more sense now_."

"They're _collectible_ _items_," Kendall said, but he felt like that was possibly the wrong answer here.

His mom pet his cheek.

"This has been nice. We never talk anymore."

"…Sure. Good times."

* * *

><p><strong>4.<strong>

"Mrs. Knight!"

Logan emerged from his meticulously picked hiding spot in the bathroom, Carlos at his heels.

"Boys? I thought Kendall said you were at the studio."

"We- were," Carlos jumped in, shifty eyed and a _terrible liar_, "I, uh, chili!"

Logan rolled his eyes and said, "Right. And then we came home to watch- that. What was _that_ even supposed to be?"

She didn't answer. Instead Mrs. Knight's eyes narrowed and she asked-

"Why are your faces so red? What- exactly were you doing in there?" her eyes darted towards the still swinging door.

"I, uh, _chili_," Carlos squeaked again. Logan didn't bother admonishing him. That was one hiding spot burned. He'd have to start scouting out the kitchen cabinets next.

"You. Are avoiding the question," Logan told her, trying not to sound too impudent, but kind of really pissed that his plan was taking so long to work. Science involved so much _waiting_.

"What was I supposed to do? March up to him and say, Kendall, you're gay? Deal with it?"

"Yeah, actually, that's pretty much what I expected."

"He's my son. I'm trying this thing now where I'm nurturing and understanding," she glared at them.

"I thought you liked telling the truth! You're setting a bad precedent," Logan said, only realizing about five seconds later that what he'd just said was more than a little impudent, and that chastising the woman who paid his room and board wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever had.

She continued to glare. Shit.

"_Nurturing_ and _understanding_," she emphasized through gritted teeth.

"Oh. Uh, it's working really well, Mrs. Knight," Carlos piped in, apparently regaining his facilities enough to say something other than _chili_.

"Yeah, _really_ well," Logan agreed hurriedly, "But. Are you sure you don't want to try again?"

"You couldn't pay me enough to do that. Not _ever_ again," Mama Knight concluded, throwing her hands in the air, and saying, "My son's a smart boy. He'll figure it out himself. It might take fifty years, but he'll get there."

The big guns had failed. Time for the cavalry.

"Katie?"

"No."

"I haven't even asked a question yet."

"Yeah, your face is an open book. I'm not interested."

Well. Well, obviously it was time to strategize.

"Carlos, come with me."

"Where?"

"Just follow me."

"Do I have to? I was thinking about the park-" Carlos caught sight of the expression on Logan's face and decided that living was a fun and exciting activity that he wanted to continue doing for a long time yet. He said, "But following you sounds awesome…ish."

Logan ignored his tone. There was no time for _tones_. Now was the time for strategizing, and strategize they would.

Which is how, within the space of a day, the good citizens of the Palmwoods Hotel were persuaded to adopt Kendall's sexuality as their newest crusade.

* * *

><p><strong>5.<strong>

Katie and Mrs. Knight watched them go.

"They are such morons."

"Be nice, sweetie. Boys aren't as quick on the uptake as girls."

"I _know_," Katie said with a frown, because she sort of thought her mom wasn't exactly catching on either. She asked, "Can I go throw water balloons at Bitters?"

"I don't see why not."

"Sweet."

* * *

><p><strong>6. <strong>

Jo hadn't wanted to break up with Kendall. She really, really hadn't. He was sweet and charming and he had the best dimples she'd ever seen anybody in possession of a penis wear.

But something had just been- off. She'd never been able to pin it down, but when Carlos and Logan approached her during one of her filming breaks with apprehensive looks and an interesting theory, it was like everything clicked into place. Of course.

She'd noticed, naturally, that Kendall hadn't really gone for anyone after their split, and she'd been flattered (who wouldn't be?). She was slightly less flattered, now that she knew his celibacy wasn't orchestrated solely for her benefit, but hey. She was a big girl. She could handle it.

She wasn't exactly looking forward to _talking _to him about it, but hey, they were still friends, and friends _helped _each other. That's all this was. Helping.

Jo took a deep breath, and jogged up to Kendall in the lobby, "Hey!"

"Hey- you."

Kendall blinked a little exaggeratedly, and Jo wondered if he had something in his eye.

"I've got to talk to you."

"About work? _Please_ say about work."

"Not about work."

Kendall's shoulders slumped, and Jo felt her heart sink, and she said, "If you don't want to talk…"

"No! I'm sorry, my mom just- she was acting a little strange, and- uh. I don't mean to take it out on you. What's up?"

This was her big chance. She was going to do some good.

"Remember when I said I was breaking up with you over differences in ambition?"

"Sure," Kendall made a face, continuing, "and then you stole my smoothie."

Jo waggled her fingers.

"Hello. Not the point."

"It should be the point," he retorted, "It was pink and delicious and more _to the point_, mine."

"I'll buy you a new smoothie."

"You can't, that place off Rodeo closed."

"I'll get you one from Pinkberry. See, it even has pink in the name."

"Ugh, but theirs are so healthy."

"Kendall, I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you here."

"I'm listening."

He stuck his face up in her personal space, their noses almost touching, and her breath hitched. Kendall was gorgeous, and the fact that he was destined to waste it on ungrateful men was a tragedy of nature.

Which got Jo thinking about all those dangerous, sultry men her ex boyfriend would be meeting in the dark, seedy corners of clubs, and what exactly they'd get up to. Fully clothed. Only the slight pulse of pocket change giving them away.

"Jo."

"Yes," she gasped.

"Your lips are turning blue. You might want to- breathe."

Oh.

"Oh, right," She tried to shake the glassiness out of her eyes and asked, "Where was I?"

"Um, I think it was differences in ambition?"

"Yeah. So. I lied."

"About your ambition?" Kendall wrinkled his nose, asking, "Do you want to be a pop star?"

"What?"

"You're one of _those_ actresses, aren't you? Really Jo, Leighton Meester only half got away with it. It's just greedy."

"Kendall," she groaned.

"You've got a point though. You're blonde, you're beautiful. You've got that whole girl next door thing going. Britney better stand back."

Beautiful?

Flustered, she lost her train of thought. Then she found it.

"Actually, _not my point._ Again," she sighed, admonishing, "You dummy, I lied about the reason we broke up."

"Oh. Oh, well, _yeah_. I kind of figured that out. I mean, you're dating that guy from Menudo now, right?"

"You know about that?"

"Sure. You're my friend, and I'm nosy that way."

That was almost kind of- sweet.

Kendall was staring at her again, his eyes so big and gray and beautiful and- yeah, Jo didn't think she could do this.

"You know what? I actually forgot, I have a- thing. To do. I just wanted to say that you- are a great guy. I'm sure you'll find someone who makes you really, really happy. I'm behind you one hundred percent."

Kendall looked kind of disappointed, but he nodded and said, "Thanks."

"You are very welcome. I've got to- go. Bye!"

* * *

><p><strong>7.<strong>

Jo was walking away. Jo was walking away, and he'd literally been _this close_ to closure. Whatever she'd needed to do must have been important. Kendall frowned. He wasn't actually sure what it was that girls did with most of their time, but he figured it probably wasn't as good as any of the things he did. Like hockey.

(If Katie was anything to go off of, girls liked to curl up on the sofa watching HBO and counting crisp stacks of money while cackling at plot holes. He couldn't really imagine Jo cackling, but females, as a whole, had this very special way of hiding most of their character flaws until they had you trapped with no way to escape.)

Kendall got distracted when he realized that a large portion of the lobby was staring at him. He noticed Logan and Carlos chatting with a small group in the corner of the lobby. He snorted. This day was starting to freak him out a little bit. He had better things to do than translate female-code, or worry about what his best friends since birth were getting up to (even if it would probably end in a miniature explosion). He had his own plans, after all.

He was in the midst of actively attempting to kick start a campaign to score the band vacations to Bali, or somewhere far enough across the globe that they'd have shoddy cell phone reception and an excuse not to deal with Gustavo's newest song writing rampage. He wondered what kind of supplies he'd need for that. Maybe a chimpanzee.

* * *

><p><strong>8.<strong>

Across the lobby, Jennifer caught a glance of a certain blond who'd been running up and down through the gossip mill.

Normally, she wouldn't even think of getting involved in the life of the _mundane_, but every once in a while, she lowered herself enough to take on a charity case.

"Look," she commanded, elbowing Jennifer with slightly more force than was necessary. Her friend winced, raising her overlarge sunglasses onto her head, dark eyes searching.

"At what, exactly?"

"Kendall Knight," Jennifer hissed back, rolling her eyes to emphasize how completely blind her friend was.

Jennifer's eyes flicked towards Kendall, and then towards the mirrored surface of one of the walls to study her hair for split ends.

"And?" She asked with the air of someone tremendously richer and less inclined to doing good works.

Jennifer tugged at a lock of her brown hair and sighed. It was such a drag being the prettiest, most intelligent Jennifer and a _humanitarian_ to boot.

"Get Jennifer," she hissed with another emphatic eye roll. It was time for an ambush.

She was absolutely sick of hearing people speculate about what some amateur singer liked to do in bed. People _should have been_ talking about how _cute _her sundress was, or how she'd started using a new shade of pink on her lips, or at the very least, if they wouldn't have the decency to discuss her general air of fantastic-osity, maybe they could mention how completely bombastic that party last night in 4B had been instead. The whole subject of some stupid nonentity made her itchy and irritable, as things tended to do when the spotlight veered in a direction that wasn't hers.

Plus, Kendall was pretty cute for a nobody from Minnesota, and his general attractiveness added an air of tragedy to the whole affair. In Jennifer's opinion, tragedy was better kept on the silver screen and out of her fantastic, glamorous life. At least in movies, it did her some good. Like allowing her to afford a new pair of Jimmy Choos.

Jennifer had obligingly retrieved Jennifer, her blonde hair lit with a halo of gold, like the princess from that Rumpelstiltskin story. Little wrinkly men, ew.

Still, her hair looked kind of pretty in the sunlight, and for a second, Jennifer wished she'd kept hers all golden too. But blondes were so last year, and besides, everyone took her so much more seriously now that she'd dyed her hair. Brunettes had a reputation for being _classy_ and _smart_, which suited her just fine. Jennifer even felt brainier, ever since she'd stopped with peroxide. Plus, roots were just so grody.

"What's this all about?" Jennifer demanded, tossing her admittedly enviable hair.

"I have no idea," Jennifer replied, dropping her glasses back down on her perfect nose. It was the best surgery could buy.

God, it was so grating that Jennifer's dad was filthy rich. But obviously all that money and bleach impacted her two best friends' capacity to function. She'd have to explain this in small words so her considerably richer, blonder, and less charitable counterparts could understand.

"_We_ are going to fix _that_," she waved a vague hand towards Kendall.

"Oh, honey. We're not miracle workers."

"Not that," Jennifer sighed, giving him another once over. Although now that she thought about it, a makeover would probably do the boy a world of good. She had the greatest ideas.

"Girls, we're going to get everyone's minds back where they belong. On _us_."

"Ooh," the Jennifers exchanged looks and chorused, "Sounds like fun. What did you have in mind?"

Well.

She hadn't really gotten to the planning stage of her plan yet. But it would come.

* * *

><p><strong>9.<strong>

The pool was not turning out to be the creativity-stimulating safe haven Kendall had hoped for. There was some kind of commotion over one of the tiny tots pissing in the shallow end, and then Bitters was walking around in his speedo, which had the potential to blind even the most stalwart souls, and all that busyness was only on the stroll to a lounge chair.

Then, the second he sat down, he was barraged by his least favorite teen girl trio.

"Hi?" he ventured, hoping he didn't look too belligerent. He probably did. His acting sucked.

The brown haired one sidled up beside him.

"You know, you have great eyes. A little bit of liner and we could really make them _pop_," her lips made a smacking sound.

Bewildered, Kendall rolled his eyes skyward, like doing so might help him see what his eyes actually looked like.

"Thanks, I guess."

"We can help you, you know. With your _problem_."

"I don't have a problem," Kendall replied, trying to use his polite-but-confused voice.

The blonde one looked him over and said, "I beg to differ."

He glanced at his plaid button down. Funny, James had said the same thing.

"Thanks, I _think_, but- I'm not interested in looking like I fell into the Gap."

"Ew. Who said anything about mediocre discount clothing?" the blonde Jennifer squealed, completely scandalized.

"Darling, you already look like you fell into the Gap. In the dark. Possibly blind. We were thinking more like Dolce and Gabana," the brunette Jennifer said, making little starburst motions with her hands to emphasize the name.

"D- wha wha?"

The curly haired Jennifer said, "He's a lost cause."

Kendall was perfectly happy being a lost cause. He opened his mouth to say so, but the brown haired one was giving him an appraising look that frightened him more than a little bit. Her fingers darted out towards the top button of his shirt, and Kendall nearly choked.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking that hideous shirt and burning it, obviously."

"Probably the jeans too."

"Please tell me you are not wearing a wifebeater under there."

He was reasonably sure that being undressed poolside by three girls in the early afternoon with about eighty witnesses, including small children and their moms, would not reflect well on the band's image, not even a little bit. Not even if he'd possibly had a very similar fantasy when he was fifteen that forced him to come to the realization that he had a kink for sex in public places.

"Yeah- I don't hit girls, but I swear if you come any closer, I will beat you down."

"Rude!" All three of them chorused.

It was creepy how they did that. Maybe they had hive minds.

"Look," the brown haired one reasoned, "We'll take you shopping afterwards. You're going to like it. It'll be _fun_."

Kendall considered himself brave.

That didn't stop him from running like hell.

* * *

><p><strong>10.<strong>

Camille caught Kendall on his way back up to 2J. Jo had asked her to talk to him, and Camille couldn't just turn down a friend. But Camille had also never really done well with all that mushy crap, and anyway, she kind of found looking at Kendall's face for longer than three seconds irritating.

He was a nice guy, but she was nearly forty seven percent positive that he'd had something to do with her and Logan's breakup.

So she slapped him.

"What was that for?"

"Man up, already," she snorted.

There. She'd done her job. She wasn't having any other part of this.

* * *

><p><strong>11.<strong>

The easiest apartment to sneak into in the whole of the Palmwoods was 2J. The door was always open, and besides, none of the residents had the best observational powers on their side.

Except for the scrawny one, with the mean eyes. You had to be on the lookout for that one. She seemed like she wouldn't mind roasting a poor mutt over a beach bonfire.

Lightning liked to sneak in sometime around twelve. First he'd take the stairs as part of his afternoon constitutional, and then he'd huddle down in 2J for his considerably longer afternoon siesta. The first two bedrooms in the hall had great big piles of clothes; striped sweaters and white v-necks, and soft, faded jeans that were fantastic for nesting. He'd settle in for an hour or three, and if he was lucky, no one would come along and ask him to dance or fetch or wink on command.

There was only so much a dog could do in a day, you know. Humans had this horrible habit of being so- work oriented. It was frankly obnoxious.

And recently the Palmwoods had been abuzz with chatter; squeaky voices that mostly grated on Lightning's ears. He didn't see that it was anyone's business who the big, shiny one wanted to mate with. He had good genes, that one. He'd spawn a great litter of pups. _Shiny_, just like him.

* * *

><p><strong>12.<strong>

Logan found Kendall rifling around in his desk, grabbing his wallet and keys and a pair of shades.

"Where are you going?"

Kendall's head jerked towards him and Logan recognized the guilty look on his face from a million different days of pranks and practical jokes and scheming.

"Oh, uh. The studio?" Kendall winced.

"Kelly hasn't called me. Did she want us?"

"…No? I just- the hotel's getting a bit crowded."

"You're hatching a plan, aren't you?"

"I'm not hatching anything. One of the advantages of being a mammal."

"Right. So- actually, I wanted to talk to you."

Logan watched as Kendall sucked in a breath, and he knew it was time. He wasn't good with the whole confrontation thing, but he could do it. He was almost a man.

Okay, he was two years away from being even close to a man, but whatever. He had man parts, and they entitled him to do manly things. Like bravely staring down the kid he'd idolized for his entire life and convincing him to embrace his sexuality.

It would be fine. Really.

"You know, the brain is constantly rewiring itself."

So maybe he had to work himself up to it.

"Cool," Kendall squinted up at the sunlight and said, "Like, maybe you should get a move on that. You know, rewire yourself into a better dancer."

"Ha. Ha. Laugh it up Justin Timberlake. Just because I didn't take ice dancing as an elective-"

Kendall scowled, voice breaking the teensiest bit when he admonished, "You promised we'd never speak of that again."

"We're getting off task, here," Logan agreed. He took a deep breath and said, "Kendall, sometimes we have urges, and they might not make sense to us, but they're completely natural."

"Is this about that time I caught you-" he lowered his voice, "Kissing- that microscope your mom gave you? Because I hate to say this, but I am reasonably certain that your pseudosexual feelings for inanimate objects are actually entirely inappropriate, Loginator."

"No, that has nothing to do with-" Logan reddened, as Kendall began to laugh, "_Shut up_, okay? I'm trying to talk to you about these feelings you might be having around now for people who you might not- who you might not have originally had feelings for. And I wanted you to know that we're okay with it. Me and Carlos and your mom and Jo and Katie- well, I'm not actually sure about Katie- and James, and just, everyone. Biologically, what you're going through isn't all that strange."

Kendall blinked, "Is this really about me?"

"What? Of course it is."

"Are you sure? Because I noticed that you and Carlos are spending an awful lot of time together. And my mom mentioned you two came out of the bathroom this morning looking awfully- flustered."

They were _not _spending a lot of time together. Nor were they ever flustered. What even made him think that? Kendall obviously was not very good at surveillance at all, if that's what he thought, and his opinion didn't matter because he wasn't a serious student of the scientific thought process that went into analyzing someone's sexuality for an extended length of time anyway. Hmph.

"Come on Log_an_, If you have something to tell me about your biological imperative, it's cool. I'm all for it. Get on with your bad self. Rock out with your co-"

"Please do not finish that sentence"

"–ck out," Kendall finished with a wicked grin.

"I can't tell if you're missing the point of this conversation on purpose or if you're really a lot denser than I ever gave you credit for."

"Never overestimate my intelligence, Logan," Kendall said in his gravest, most solemn voice.

"You-" Logan sort of saw where Mrs. Knight had been coming from now. He said, "Just go to the studio."

* * *

><p><strong>13.<strong>

On the way out the door, Kendall was stopped by Guitar Dude. Who proceeded to speak in tongues.

"Like, when energies collide, man, it's like-" he sliced his hands through the air and made a noise that sounded vaguely like a _whoosh_, "-Supernova. But when you deny your true self, man," he finished sadly, holding open his hands, "Shouldn't keep things bottled up like that."

Kendall stared at him, completely stymied. He had no idea how Logan could translate stoner-speak so fluently. It was exactly like another language, and Kendall sucked at other languages. Who had the time to do all that- _studying_?

"Wow, this has been- wow. I'm enlightened."

"Word," Guitar Dude said.

* * *

><p><strong>14.<strong>

Kelly got to him first. Which shouldn't really have come as a surprise. Kelly hadn't gotten a job as Gustavo Rocque's executive assistant by acting sweet and long suffering. Sure, there was a lot of canoodling involved, and of course she suffered through _a whole lot_, but really, Kelly Wainwright was a go-getter. She did not have the time or the patience to deal with anyone else's crises. She had enough on her plate already.

Okay, so maybe if it had been Carlos, she would have deployed a certain amount of tender loving care and tact, but Carlos was a sweetheart. He reminded her of this puppy she'd owned when she was six. Kendall reminded her more of Bryce Johnson, the boy who used to pull her hair in sixth grade as a way of _expressing his feelings_. He stopped when Kelly expressed her feelings about hair pulling.

With _her_ fists.

* * *

><p><strong>15.<strong>

She'd been talking for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of professional, buttoned up, full on lecturing about how his personal decisions were causing strife in the band, and how he needed to grow a pair and get over his _identity crisis_. Every once in a while he caught her digging her fingers into her palms like she was considering hitting him.

Kendall wondered how painful it would be to strangle himself with an extension cord. He was sure there was one around somewhere. The sound board had like, a bazillion different plugs.

If only they didn't use wireless microphones.

"Are you even listening to me?" Kelly snapped.

"Oh? Oh- yeah. Of course I'm listening. That you doubt me hurts, Kelly. Really."

She looked entirely unconvinced, because she was clever, and maybe he was a little predictable (a situation that had to be immediately rectified, when the torture stopped), but Kelly was a trooper. She didn't give up, which would normally be an admirable quality.

But right now it mostly made him wonder why a beautiful, competent, moderately intelligent twenty something was totally lacking a boyfriend. Maybe it was her habit of making wild accusations and giving Catholic School nuns a run for their money when it came to the lecturing.

It kept going and- Seriously. He resolved that if it was the last thing he did, Kendall would get her out into the real world, and laid to boot. Preferably by someone attractive and smart, so that she'd be too occupied to lay in on him ever again.

* * *

><p><strong>16.<strong>

Griffin saw Kendall being harassed by that somewhat scary PA Gustavo hired. He decided to intervene, because he'd been thinking about having a talk with the boy ever since he'd heard the most _interesting _rumor floating around the studio.

So he offered him a seat in front of Gustavo's large, exorbitantly expensive desk. Which he was considering requisitioning as his own, because Gustavo's place was in front of a piano, not cooped up in an office where he rarely seemed to do much except Google himself, if his internet history was anything to go by.

"You know, when I was your age, I was involved with a stablehand at my mother's country club. His name was Bernard."

Kendall banged his head against the desk. It was rather rude, seeing as he'd been in the midst of a story and everything.

"Do you hate me?"

"No. Well, yes. Is this a philosophical debate?" Griffin clapped his hands together, saying, "Goody."

"How is that question in any way philosophical?"

The older man cocked his head to the side and said, "Because on principle, I have to like you. You've made me massive amounts of money. Also, you have spunk. It's intriguing. Conversely, people are _ehhhhh_. You're a person," Griffin shrugged, and said, "So I probably do hate you a little."

"I'm glad we have that settled."

"Likewise. Bernard was amazing in bed-" Griffin picked the story back up. He tried not to be offended when Kendall stuck his fingers in his ears.

* * *

><p><strong>17.<strong>

"Kelly wants me to talk to you," Gustavo said.

"Do you want to talk to me?" Kendall asked warily.

"Not particularly, no. Your teen drama is boring. Get out and let me work."

"_Happily_."

* * *

><p><strong>18.<strong>

"Mercedes!"

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

"Kendall, hi."

"Um. Hi."

"You were a shitty boyfriend. But I've forgiven you for that. Mostly. Because I'm _generous_. And I think we've gotten to become good friends, don't you?"

"Uh, I haven't seen you since you broke up with Logan."

"_Details_. God, you don't have to get so caught up with the little things."

"You're- right."

"Of course I am. So, since we're such good friends, I'm thinking that tomorrow, you and I should have a slumber party."

"A _what_?"

"I'm going to rent all of Sex and the City, and we'll get ice cream, and I'm thinking that I'll hire someone to give us manipedis."

Kendall's mouth gaped open and closed.

"Great, it's a date! Bye!"

* * *

><p><strong>19.<strong>

He was on his way back to the hotel when he ran into Jett.

Who greeted him with, "You have an odd looking face."

"I- think you've said that before, thanks."

Kendall still maybe resented him a little for dating Jo directly after the breakup. To be fair, they'd only lasted two days.

This was also actually the most comforting, familiar exchange he'd had all afternoon.

"Very odd looking," Jett murmured, "but I suppose the dimples hold a certain charm. And your mouth is nice, yes, quite-"

It was about then that Kendall realized that Jett was getting very, very close. He could smell the French dip he'd just gotten from Phillipe's on his breath, and if he'd been less freaked out, he probably could've counted the other boy's eyelashes.

"Insolent, isn't it?"

"I- I- I- _What_?"

"Your mouth," Jett breathed, and leaned a smidge closer.

Oh _hell _no. Kendall punched Jett in the stomach and walked away before he decided that slamming his head into a brick wall would be a fun idea.

* * *

><p><strong>20.<strong>

James was lying on Kendall's bed when he walked into his room. He was stretched long and languid across the comforter, listening to his iPod and staring at the ceiling. But the second he caught sight of Kendall, he ripped his earbuds out and said, "You look terrible."

"Thanks," Kendall's face went all soft and he told him, "I just had the strangest day."

"Tell me about it."

James shifted over on the comforter, and Kendall obligingly settled down beside him.

He reached up and trailed his fingers along James's jaw line. He'd been waiting for this since the moment he woke up and found a James shaped hole in his bed. He wanted to fold himself into his best friend's arms until there was no visible way to discern where he ended and James began.

The distance between their faces was no more than a breath, but unlike with Jett, the last thing Kendall wanted to do was drive his fist home. This was James, his James, the boy who'd stood by his side since back before Kendall could actually remember.

James, who, after the breakup with Jo, was standing in the wings to catch him.

James, who leaned into to capture Kendall's mouth like he'd been waiting for this moment all day too, who was passionate and hungry and driven, and kissed like he was conquering new terrain. It left Kendall breathless and gasping and half-hard in his jeans, and when James started playing with the hemline of his shirt, Kendall nearly laughed. Everyone had spent the day trying to convince Kendall he was gay. How could they not have realized that he already _knew_? He was surrounded, day in and day out by three of the most gorgeous guys to have ever walked the Earth. Obviously, he'd take advantage of it. He wasn't _stupid_. He found it rather offensive that everyone seemed to think he was.

Although, secrecy did have its advantages, and Kendall liked to think he had the best poker face around.

James licked a line up his throat and began to suck against his skin in a way that would bruise, that would mark him. His breathing hitched.

"Mercedes wants to give me a manicure. And I might've convinced Logan he was gay for Carlos."

"Oh?" James murmured against the thrum of his pulse.

"Well, yeah. I figured it was best to keep it in the family."

"Still, kind of mean, isn't it? Making little Logie all confused."

James rolled him onto his back, and Kendall found himself wondering what the fuck they were doing talking about Logan when their hips slotted together like _this_.

"Mean? I'll tell you what's mean. There is this vicious, brutal, completely _true_ rumor going around the Palmwoods, and I can't figure out who started it. But I'm leaning towards Logan."

"That's probably a good bet. He's been acting pretty weird."

"He is not as stealth as he likes to think," Kendall agreed.

"Do you really want to talk about Logan right now?"

Kendall felt James's hands move from his shirt to his belt and he breathed, "Not really. Not at all."

* * *

><p><strong>21.<strong>

"Guys, dinner's rea-" Katie stormed into the room, saw what she'd interrupted, and threw up her hands, announcing, "I knew it."


End file.
